Inheritance
by Tsukinori Kaze
Summary: The time has finally come for Killua to take his place as heir to the Zoldyck family. A deathbed promise, an arranged marriage and a new, mercurial power that could destroy them all leads Killua to think one thing: why didn't I tell him everything when we still had time? And can I rule over the darkness without snuffing out the light? Killlugon, thriller, romance, angst.
1. Prelude

**Prelude: Inheritance X Change**

Killua always knew that there would be a reckoning. He danced on the line between light and shadow, taking a secret, wicked pleasure in enjoying both worlds. He wasn't stupid: he knew eventually that the dance would have to end, that he would be forced to choose between family and freedom, duty and desire, assassin or Hunter. But he'd always thought he would have time.

When he'd re-united with Gon at fifteen, taller, stronger but no more able to look into those deep brown eyes without flushing, he'd told himself that there was no need to rush it. Things would come naturally, he told himself. They would travel the world together again and one day, Killua would just roll over and say it. Just like that, without a lot of fuss. It could be simple. Perfect and simple, as things between them had always been.

But it was only simple because Gon was simple and Killua was a coward.

The truth could have changed everything and so Killua buried it. He retreated from it like a fight that he was never certain he could win; he bowed to it the same way he'd bowed to Illumi's needle.

For five more years, Killua had told himself "tomorrow". He became such a consummate liar that he'd actually believed himself. It was never the right moment. When Gon smiled back at the hotel receptionist and said that they only needed a room with one bed, Killua said nothing. When Gon mumbled in his sleep and Killua propped up on one elbow just to watch, he said nothing. When Gon told perfect strangers that "this is my best friend, Killua", Killua looked away and never said that it was more than that and if Gon were smarter and Killua were braver, both of them would admit it.

Atop the World Tree, with Gon's head resting lightly against his shoulder, their hands touching ever so slightly and the sun setting, Killua said to himself that now it really was time. It was time now. They were nineteen, nearly twenty years old and they were boys no longer. They were past the innocence of childhood and the confusion of adolescence. Killua knew that this was no phase, that Gon was as much a part of him as his beating heart and that there was no escaping it. He had learned to be brave once before: he could do it again.

For Gon, there was nothing that he couldn't do.

 _Do it. Do it now._

He turned to look into Gon's tan face. The spiky haired boy's eyes were half closed and his breathing was slow.

"Gon," Killua started. He tried to remember his years of training to control his heartbeat but it fluttered out of his grasp. "Gon, I…"

Gon smiled, ready to receive whatever Killua had to say. The same as it had always been. "Hm?"

Killua seized onto it like a drowning man to a half second of air, flinging himself head first into the abyss.

"Gon, I…"

His phone buzzed. Now, of all moments, his cell phone was warming up his pocket.

Gon laughed. "Go ahead and answer."

Killlua pasted a smirk on his face, as if this phone call was nothing more than a mere inconvenience. He couldn't let his frustration show or it would ruin everything.

He answered the phone in a clipped, calm voice. "This is Killua. What is it?"

There was a sniffle on the other end of the line and then, as if from another life, his mother's voice. "Oh, Kil. It's really you, Kil."

Killua stiffened. He knew. In that moment he knew. There was only one reason she'd ignore his father's strict rule not to call or pester him, to leave him be in the hopes that one day he'd return on his own. He paused before answering and looked out at the setting sun, Gon's bright eyes and easy, patient smile. Then he looked away.

This was the price for his cowardice. The gods had gotten tired of waiting for him after all.

"Mother. What is it?"

His mother was always overdramatic. But Killua knew that this wasn't one of those times. The grief in her voice was genuine and it washed over him like a deep wave.

"It's papa. It's your father. He's…dying Killua. He'll be gone before the week is out. Kil…you have to come home. He's asking for you. It's time for you to come home."

Gon touched Killua's shoulder, sensing that something was wrong.

Killua shrugged away the touch. There was no point now, was there?

Time was up.


	2. Inheritance X Blood Oath

**Chapter One: Inheritance X Blood Oath**

Home was even gloomier than usual.

No one said a word to him once he'd arrived back at the Zoldyck estate. When he pushed through the seventh door of the testing gate with only a slight grunt, the butlers were waiting for him on the other side. Even Canary was silent, her gray, expressive eyes cast solemnly down. Killua squeezed her shoulder as she led the way up the mountain. He noted that she seemed to have risen in the ranks since he'd been gone. Killua was glad of it. He had never forgotten her loyalty to him. She would have been his friend, if it had been allowed. She had always done as much as she could for him.

But there was nothing she could do now.

Killua had expected to go to his father's lair, where they'd always spoken before. He checked a little when the butler gestured down one dimly lit stone hallway.

He'd never been in his parent's bedroom before. It made sense that they had one, of course—even assassins had to sleep every once in a blue moon. And he did have four siblings. As charming as it was for Killua to think that his parents had mated in the woods like animals between murders, that probably wasn't likely.

The room had bolted double doors. Canary tapped on it five times with her staff.

Untrained ears would have missed that each tap had a slightly different pitch.

It opened from the inside and Amane's scruffy head popped out.

"What is it?"

Canary gestured to Killua.

"I have the young master."

Amane looked him up and down. She took in how much he'd grown: he was six feet tall now, only a little shorter than Illumi, and his lean muscle was visible even underneath his black turtleneck and black pants.

She moved aside without a word and Canary fell back. Killua went in alone.

The first thing he noticed was the massive bed with a headboard carved from dragon bone. He immediately stopped focusing on anything else. There, propped up against the pillows, still fully dressed, was his father.

At first, he thoughts this must be a joke-an absurd, unfunny joke or perhaps an elaborate ruse to get him to come home. Silva looked the same as he always had. He was still an absolutely massive man, still filled out with hard muscle. He was holding one of the weighted teacups and his blue eyes glinted when they fell on Killua.

He couldn't be sick. It was impossible. Killua had never seen anything get the best of his father. He remembered being just one or two years old and watching Silva had always seemed like more of a distant god than a true father. It had never actually occurred to Killua that his father was mortal, let alone that he might die in bed like an ordinary man.

But Killua's senses were too strong now to fail to notice it: the wavering life force, the candle blowing in the wind that was his father's heartbeat. It was one gust away from going out.

Silva smiled. "Killua."

Killua swallowed back sudden tears. "Dad."

It took him another second to notice his mother sitting on a tall backed chair by the bed. She jumped out of her seat to come enfold him in a hug. He allowed it begrudgingly, even though the smell of her perfume made him want to gag: blood and hemlock.

Her face was wet with tears and her visor went fuzzy.

"Oh, Kil. You're home. I'm so happy. Papa has been waiting for you."

Killua pulled out of the hug as gracefully as he could. He had never been able to reciprocate his mother's feverish…devotion. He couldn't call it love.

"Mother."

Even now, he felt pity for her. His father had always been the guiding force in the family, the steady hand that kept all the haphazard pieces from falling apart. Though they had never shown much outward affection towards one another, Killua knew that his mother loved her husband and that she would be utterly lost without him.

"Come sit with us," his mother demanded. She was wearing the black kimono she used to wear, with her long black hair pulled up into a beehive. "We have much to discuss. The transition of power must be smooth. Papa has many plans."

Silva's low voice rumbled out and it was still strong. "Kikyo, leave us alone for a while."

She whirled on him. "But, papa, we said that we would handle Kil together!"

Silva grunted. "Just do what I say."

"I don't want to leave you…"

Killua saw his father's face soften ever so slightly. "You can come back in a little while. I'll still be here. I'm not stupid enough to die without you, woman. My soul would never have any peace."

She hesitated but then her face glazed over into a mask of calm. She kissed Killua's cheek swiftly before sliding out of the room.

Silva managed a wry laugh. He gestured to the now vacant seat beside the bed.

"Come on, boy. Let me see you."

Killua stepped forward and did as he was bid. He was careful to keep his face composed. He'd thought, at nineteen, he could handle anything. He was quickly being proved wrong.

"I'm sorry," Silva said simply. He shut his eyes for a moment and Killua felt his stomach drop into his stomach before they opened up again. "I realize my dying is going to cause quite the mess for you."

Killua ducked his head so that his bangs would shadow his eyes. "That's not true. I can handle it."

"I know you can. You are my son, after all. You have more of me in you than any of your brothers. I would trust the Zoldyck legacy to no one else but you."

When this got no response, Silva sighed.

"Look at me, son."

Killua looked up and met his father's steady, pensive gaze.

"Will you do it? Will you take your place?"

There was only one answer.

"I will."

"Swear."

Killua took a deep breath. "I, Killua Zoldyck, will lead the Zoldyck family until my death. I so swear."

Silva bit his thumb to draw blood and Killua followed suit. This was their second blood oath, he remembered now. It would also be their last. As they pressed their bloody thumbs together, Silva's relief was palpable. He broke out into a genuine smile and in that moment, Killua thought that all of this might be worth it: just to see that look. His father had never looked more proud.

"I can die in peace now," Silva sighed. He coughed and splattered his forearm with black blood. Alarmed, Killua stood to call for help but his father waved a hand.

"It doesn't matter. There's nothing they can do. Your mother has had every doctor in the world here to see me. They all said that if I were a normal person I would have been dead ten years ago. Look at me…immune to every poison, stronger than a dozen oxen, world-renowned Nen user…" he let out a bitter laugh. "Killed by a damn genetic disease that skips generations. I would find it funny if it didn't mean I had to leave my boys alone."

Killua twisted his hands together, feeling as helpless as a newborn. It had been years since he'd felt so weak.

"I don't know what to do," he whispered. "Dad. Tell me what to do."

Silva gestured for Killua to sit on the side of the bed and then placed a large hand on top of his son's ruffled silver mane.

"Listen to your instincts, Killua. You were born for this. I have faith in you. I always have."

Killua swallowed the lump in his throat. "Please don't go, dad."

His father shrugged. "Not even I have that power. Death and I have been friends for a long time. It's time I go greet him properly. Killua…you'll be okay. Because you're my son."

Killua gripped his father's outstretched palm. "Okay, dad."

Silva coughed again but there was no blood this time. He looked tired, like a traveler come to the end of a long and eventful journey. "Send your mother back in."

"Okay, dad."

Silva smiled. "Good boy."

 **X**

 _The flower falls in May_

 _Each petal lost_

 _Somewhere where summer_

 _Never dies_

An hour later, Silva was dead.

They burned his body on a rainy Sunday afternoon, a simple, dignified ceremony with the entire estate present. Killua held his mother's hand, partly because he was afraid she would become histrionic and fling herself onto the pyre if he didn't.

His father would have hated that. When it was time, Killua gave a brief, emotionless speech saying that he would be assuming control of the Zoldyck estate. No one was surprised.

Illumi stood, blank faced as always but Milluki was a blubbering mess. Kalluto's face was half hidden by a fan. There was no point wishing for Alluka—it was best to leave that situation be. Alluka was happy far away from all of this.

He could hear some of the butlers crying. He said nothing to them.

It was the end of an era and no one could be certain what came next. Let them cry. He envied their position: he wanted to cry too.

There was one person there that Killua did not recognize. He could hardly be bothered to notice until the ceremony was over and they were trudging back up the mountain in the miserable rain. Sandwiched between two butlers was a slight figure draped in a black kimono with a white sash.

He waited until his mother was safely out of sight before swiftly yanking the stranger out of line.

"Who are you? What do you think you're doing here?"

A girl with warm, honey colored skin and dark purple eyes looked up at him blankly. She was no more than five feet tall. At first he thought she was child but the curves still visible under the heavy fabric of the kimono told him otherwise.

"You're trespassing. How did you get past the guards?"

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Killua was in no mood today. If not for Illumi's intervention, he would have snapped her neck with two fingers right then and there. His older brother appeared from nowhere, as he had an annoying habit of doing. It had not taken him long at all to notice that Killua had deviated from the path.

"Relax, Kil. That girl is our guest."

Killua blinked uncomprehendingly but he released the girl, who as of yet not said a single word. Was she terrified into silence or just stupid? He had really been about to kill her.

"Since when do we have guests?" he snapped.

Illumi's eyes were as empty as always. If he was angry that he had been passed up for the position as head of the family, despite years of loyal service while Killua had been gallivanting around the world, he did not show it. "You should speak to mother."

The girl was looking as if she very much wanted to disappear. She had a mess of dark brown curls that she was currently attempting to hide behind.

Killua looked at his elder brother. "You clearly know enough. You tell me."

Illumi touched his chin with a long finger. His dark hair was slicked back, a few damp strands clinging to his face.

"Mother wanted to be the one to tell you. She'll be upset with me if I do."

Killua straightened up. "What if I order you to tell me?"

Illumi chuckled. "Are you giving orders now, Kil?"

"Stop messing around and tell me!"

Illumi sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Fine."

He pointed at the cowering girl. "That," he said, as if it were the simples thing in the world, "is your wife."


	3. Inheritance X Stranger

_**Author's Note: See how fast I am with these chapters? I am on a rare break from novel writing, as I'm currently just waiting to hear back from publishers so I plan to tie up all of my stories in this golden moment. Happy "I'm attractive but way too anti-social, emotionally scarred and socially awkward to have significant other" day. I'm going to get some chicken nuggets.**_

 **Chapter Two: Inheritance X Stranger**

Gon waited.

That's what he did best when it came to Killua, after all. He waited patiently in a little inn in the next town over and he knew that Killua would come.

He counted on it like he counted on the sun rising each morning. Everyday that they had been apart, Gon had looked out across the water and known that Killua was safe. It had been a gut feeling. And even though he knew that Killua would come and see him once things had settled down, that gut feeling of safety was suddenly gone.

Still, Gon was not at all surprised to roll over in his sleep one night and find Killua sitting next to him. Without even thinking, he rested his head in the silver haired boy's lap.

"Killua," he almost purred. "I knew you'd come. Did I leave the window open?"

"No, I had to break the lock. Sorry."

Gon looked up into Killua's strained face. "I'm sorry, Killua."

The blue eyes darted away. "Ah. I know."

Gon knew that Silva had died or Killlua wouldn't be here. His best friend was still wearing all black.

"So is it done? Are you head of the family now?"

Killua nodded. "Hm."

Gon wiggled a bit so that his head moved in Killua's crotch. For some strange reason, Killua coughed and stood up.

Gon propped himself up on his elbows. "Killua?"

His friend would not meet his eyes. "Gon…thanks for sticking around. But you can leave now, if you want. I'm sure you're bored."

Gon frowned. "Don't be stupid. I'm not going to leave you now. I'm not going to leave you ever."

Killua's eyes flashed. The mask of a cold assassin dropped and Gon saw the boy who meant everything to him. His best, best friend in the world…because what else could it be?

"Bakka," Killua mumbled. "Don't say things like that. It's embarrassing."

Gon bounced off the bed and went over to Killua. Even though he was just as strong as Killua now, he had always been shorter and stockier, so he had to lean up so that their foreheads were touching.

"Let me stay. You're going to need me."

Killua laughed. "Can you teach me how to run my family business? Can you help me tame my mother and keep my brothers from plotting a mutiny to overthrow me?"

Gon shook his head. "Of course not. But I always come in handy in the end."

Those lovely blue eyes filled up and Killua bit his lip. Gon wrapped his arms around the taller boy's neck. That warm, fuzzy feeling he always got when he looked at Killua was burning hot in his belly. He pressed himself tight against his friend and heard a small gasp in return.

"Let me stay."

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"I can handle it. You don't have to protect me all the time anymore, Killua."

"That's not what I mean. Gon there's…there's something else…"

"I don't care."

"Gon, bakka, listen…"

"I don't _care_ Killua. I'm staying with you so stop arguing with me. You never win anyway!"

Killua's body stiffened and for a moment, Gon thought he felt something…firm…against his leg but then it was gone.

"You're right," he whispered, half jokingly and half with a deep sadness. "I can't live without you, Gon."

Gon nuzzled into Killua's neck. "Things won't change," he said fiercely, determined to make it so. "It will still be the two of us."

There was no answer. Killua's body wracked with silent sobs and Gon said nothing and held him, for a long time, until they stopped.

 **X**

Killua waited. It was one of the assassin's greatest skills: waiting. It was actually the hardest part of the job.

The killing part was usually relatively quick.

Killua had killed his first man at four. The worst part of the whole thing had been waiting six hours for the asshole to come out of his hotel room. All he'd wanted to do was get back to his sandbox. Of course, Illumi had dragged him home and made him make a full report to his parents so there wasn't even a payoff at the end of it.

But now he was older and theoretically, the waiting should be coming easier. Theoretically.

Killua watched as Canary guided Gon into an abandoned cabin behind the butler's quarters. He made sure that the two were safely inside before stepping back, ever so slightly on his heel.

Half an instant later he was fifty paces away with the razor point of his nails pressed up against the soft flesh of that girl's neck.

She winced but he had to give her credit, she didn't gasp. She gripped the tree she was holding onto to avoid sinking to the ground in terror.

"Killua-sama," she whispered. "Forgive me for following you."

"I don't," he snapped. "I don't forgive you. I thought I told mother to send you home. I already said I would never marry you."

"Killua-sama…"

"You're not even good at it," he spat at her. She had changed out of black into a pale pink kimono. Her hair was braided and fell all the way down her back. Her deep purple eyes had a way of catching the light, especially when they were wide with fear. It irritated him that even though he detested her, he couldn't call her ugly. "I sensed you the second you stepped foot out of the mansion."

"I'm so-,"

"Don't you know anything about Zetsu?" he continued, aware that his rage was misdirected but unable to make himself care. "Though it wouldn't matter because you walk like a fucking elephant."

Her cheeks lit up with a quick flush and she bit her lip. "I've never been good at Zetsu. I'm…sorry."

"Shadow step? Anything? What exactly do you have to offer the Zoldyck family besides a vagina?"

Her eyes filled up with tears. "I…my brother…"

"I don't care about your brother. Go home."

"I don't have…"

"If I see you again I'll rip out your heart."

He kicked her in the back of her ankles, hard enough to sting but without enough force to shatter her legs. When she was down, he stepped back on his other heel and disappeared in a flash.

 **X**

It was not remotely surprising to him that he was summoned to his father's old chamber. His mother sent three butlers to inform him that she needed to speak to him _at once_.

So naturally, Killua showed up three hours later, his belly full of sweets. They were all that he could make himself eat lately.

His mother was livid. She stood up from the great chair when he entered.

"Kil!" she shrieked.

He glanced at her coldly, clearly bored. It irritated him to see her sitting in his father's chair. He had never let her sit there when he was breathing. He was hardly buried and already everything had gone to shit.

"Mother. You asked to see me."

"Illumi tells me that you have insulted our guest."

 _Fucking Illumi._

"Since when do we have fucking guests?" he growled, officially at the end of his rope. "You kept me locked up my entire childhood—if it weren't for dad you would have kept me here forever. And now we have fucking company? Illumi told me that you she's been here for weeks!"

His mother straightened up. "I tried to explain this to you before you stormed out the other day. She's not an ordinary girl."

Killua doubted that very much. He'd sensed nothing extraordinary about her and it had been years since his perception had failed him.

"Send her back."

"We can't do that," she said testily. "We already paid for her. And I'm afraid there's no refund policy."

Killua just gaped at her. "What?"

"We bought her," his mother explained, as if she were talking about buying groceries. "At an underworld auction. She cost five billion jenny but she should be worth every penny."

Killua had a sudden mental image of that slight girl, pushed out onto a brightly lit stage. He could almost see her downcast gaze to hide the tears.

"Why?" he gasped. He had always known the black market dealt in people and he had always known that his family had never shied away from dealing with the underworld—when it was useful to them, of course. But still. He had never heard anything like this before.

"Because she is Mira Azhara of the Azhara family," his mother said smoothly.

Killua was sure his mother had mentioned this part before but he hadn't really stopped yelling "get her the fuck out of here, I'll never marry her" long enough for it to sink in.

The Azhara family was not as well known as the Zoldycks—in fact, they were a very well kept secret. They weren't assassins or mafia. But they were carriers of extremely rare, powerful Nen abilities: a family of specialists. It was hit or miss though—sometimes the "gifts" skipped whole generations or more. When the ability did finally re-appear, it was normally different—but it was always stronger than before. For every skipped generation, the power was stronger when it did appear. If it lay dormant for long enough….

It made sense now.

"The purple eyes," he said flatly. "They're the indicator."

His mother nodded. He could feel the lust for power radiating from her. "The last person to get a truly powerful gift was her great-grandfather. And she has his eyes."

"I didn't sense anything," he said, astonished. He ran a hand through his hair. "I swear she has the presence of a flea."

His mother nodded. "Her power is sealed. Apparently she can't control it."

Killua's eyes went wide. "Then what fucking use is she?"

"We don't need her power," his mother replied. She was almost shaking with excitement. She licked her parted lips. He fought the urge to gag as he realized that this must be what she looked like when she was aroused. "We just need her blood. And we know that hers is especially potent."

It dawned on Killua the entire point of this master plan. It was a stroke of genius: his father's last act to ensure the future of the family.

"Your children," his mother breathed. "Will be gods on earth."

He felt sick. "There's…no guarantee of that. It's a crapshoot."

Her visor went blurry. She was crying happy tears. "But you have always been lucky, Kil," she whispered. "We are on the edge of greatness. And we are going to win."

 **X**

Now was the part where Killua had to apologize to the stranger.

He would keep it brief—he was having dinner with Gon—but he would do it all the same.

She hadn't asked to be here, after all. It could not have been very fun for her to be sold like livestock to a family of assassins. Whatever this rare Nen ability was…the rest of the family seemed to have forgotten that it was attached to a person.

They always had a way of forgetting that people were people and not just pawns in the Zoldyck game.

Killua was supposed to be head of the family now but he damn sure didn't feel like it. He felt like he had when he was a little boy, trapped under his mother's dark wing and inside Illumi's hypnotic eyes.

She wasn't in her assigned room—which was, shock of all shocks, right to next to his mother's chambers.

There was a butler hovering around her door who blanched when Killua asked where the girl was.

"She ugh…" the man stammered. "She's with Milluki-sama, Killua-sama."

He felt a cold chill go down his spine. He knew _exactly_ what that meant.

He turned and bolted down the hall. He was faster now. It only took him seconds to descend the stairs, breeze past the burning torches and tear open the metal door to the isolation room.

Milluki's fat back was the first thing he saw. His older brother, now in his mid-twenties but no less fat, was doubled over hacking, clearly out of breath.

Killua quickly saw why. There, hung from the ceiling, was the stranger. Her head was bowed but he sensed that she was still barely conscious. Deep welts marred her warm brown flesh and her entire front was coated in matted blood. She was wearing nothing but a thin cotton slip that had torn and she was shamefully exposed. That explained the extra flush on Milluki's cheeks. He was enjoying this more than usual.

She had been up there for hours…probably since he'd confronted her this morning.

Milluki was holding the whip.

"Oh Kil," he said nonchalantly as he noticed his younger brother. "I was just…"

"Cut her down."

He knew that he was wearing his bloodlust on his face. He could feel his aura leaking out, building up in his arms and legs, preparing him to strike. This feeling was familiar: it was rage. It was his oldest companion.

Milluki's narrow eyes widened a little.

"Oi Kil. I thought this was what you wanted. Mama said she offended you—,"

"That doesn't mean I want you to beat her as punishment!" he seethed. He started to go to where the girl was hanging but Milluki stepped into his path, blocking it like a fat great wall.

"This isn't punishment. It's training."

Killua pulled his lip back from his front teeth. "What?"

"She's weak," Milluki scoffed. "She's offended you with her weakness. Mama too. Illumi too. She's not worthy to bear the name Zoldyck."

Killua remembered being hung from that ceiling before he could use the toilet on his own. Illumi had held his feet to stop his limbs from tearing in their sockets. Milluki had held the whip as both his parents looked on, grim faced. His grandfather—rest his soul—had always been the one to say when it was time for the training to stop.

Usually after Killua had learned to stop crying.

"Cut her down," he said, in a low, deadly voice. "Or I will cut your throat."

Milluki went pale. "I won't," he said stubbornly. "I won't disobey mama. You do it. Since you're head of the family now you can do what you want. But you're weak, Kil. You'll be the ruin of us. I told papa. I told mama. You're going to be the end of the Zoldycks!"

Killua moved past him without another word. He went to the stranger and reached out a hesitant hand to touch her neck. There was still a pulse.

She groaned and Killua froze. When she lifted her head their eyes met.

"Killua-sama," she whispered, so faintly that he would not have heard if he had not been close enough to read her lips.

"I'm going to get you down," he said in a rush. He didn't bother with the keys to the shackles. Instead he just ripped them off the wall and caught the stranger as she fell.

She let out a horrible moan of pain and he thought about knocking her out just to spare her.

"I'm sorry, Mira," he breathed.

She smiled up at him faintly. "That's…the first time."

"What?"

Now he was afraid that Milluki had knocked out half her brain and that she would be a half-wit for life.

She coughed up a little spurt of blood but her smile didn't fade. "That's the first time you've used my name."

He gaped at her in silence. A second later she went slack, finally, mercifully, at peace.

But it would not last.

Not for her. Not for Gon.

And not for Killua.


End file.
